


Pinot Noir

by cryptidcasanova



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Detective, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, F/M, Mystery, Obsession, Smut, Yandere, noir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-24 09:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidcasanova/pseuds/cryptidcasanova
Summary: Detective Barnes is on the hunt for a fiancé that has gone missing, but when she turns out to have amnesia he can use it to his advantage.Pairing: Detective!Bucky x Reader (Dark!Bucky)Warnings: This is dark. Everything about it is dubious. Yandere. Dubcon. Smut. Amnesia. Obsession. Party Drugs. Poor decisions - drinking and driving (brief). Imagine a mix of the tv show You and the movie 50 First Dates. 18+ only. This is intended for mature audiences. Please proceed with discretion.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Pinot Noir

It was getting late when there was a frantic knocking on the office door. Bucky was closing up for the night, keys in one hand and his hat in the other. 

Maybe if he waited it out they would go away. But the knock was persistent, and Bucky could hear the plea on the other side of the door. Someone needed his help. It seemed like someone always needed his help.

He should have invested in getting his working hours engraved on the door. But with his line of work, there were no set hours. 

Barnes Detective Agency

Bucky set down his hat and unlocked the front door, and in an instant there was a gentleman storming into the office.

“Mr. Barnes, please. It’s urgent. I have nowhere else to turn to. Please, Mr. Barnes. you gotta help me.” 

The man was panicked, and with an interested quip of his brow Bucky led him over to his desk.

“Slow down pal, what happened?”

“It’s my girl, my fiancé. She’s missing.”

Bucky’s eyes danced with a dark, wild light. 

Unfortunately for his little friend here, _Bucky already knew that._

* * *

Bucky was staking out a home on another odd job when he first spotted you on your way to work. Even from far away, from waiting and watching from his car you were a vision. You were relaxed, never rushed, and your light composure made it hard for him to turn away.

So he watched until you drove off, and it went that way for a few days until he could no longer justify extending his stake out.

He never expected to get so close, but you were intoxicating in your own charming way. Bucky couldn’t stay away for very long.

His hyperfixation had turned into something more as time drew on. Bucky had bumped into you, met you, and passed by you half a dozen times and you hardly noticed.

Bucky knew your schedule. He knew how you liked your morning breakfast sandwiches, _hell_ , he even knew that you prefer to sleep with a fan on instead of cracking a window.

An ardent, fervent love brewed within him. He just needed for you to see it too.

Bucky could have used a little more time to pick up on the boyfriend’s intentions, but by the time the little man proposed he needed to jump into action. He would need to use it to his advantage.

He knew when you were going out to celebrate your _engagement_. He knew which friends you were going to be with. And he specifically knew that they only drank white wine, while you sipped on red.

Red wine.

That’s all it would take. Bucky had a friend across town in the medical field that knew the ins and outs of all street drugs, and he knew how to get his hands on them. Banner wasn’t one to question Bucky’s motives.

Doping up the wine was the easy part. Delivering it would be a little more tricky.

You were dining out at that little Italian restaurant, laughing and smiling the night away when the waiter interrupted the table. His eyes were wide with surprise. Whatever he had to say, he carried a certain excitement about it.

“Excuse me, ladies. One of our other patrons heard you were celebrating tonight. Here is a bottle of the finest Pinot Noir in Brooklyn. On the house.”

The table paused, your friends looking at you with bated breaths.

What a spectacle. You could hardly believe it.

“Oh, oh no I couldn’t.” You bashfully shook your head. “Are you sure? Who do I need to thank?”

The giggle on your lips had always had an addictive quality, but the waiter shook his head. He wouldn’t break so easily.

“My lips are sealed.” He ensured. “It’s from a very _generous_ patron. May I pour you a glass?”

And you didn’t question it for a moment.

That was your first mistake.

The night blurred by and you were beyond happy. You were engaged, you were with your closest friends, and you felt as light as a feather. It was the perfect night. You were two glasses in, effectively drinking a good portion of the bottle before you started to sway on your feet.

Regardless, you insisted you were good to drive. That you just needed some air and that you would be right as rain. And your friends didn’t think twice about it.

That was your second mistake.

It wasn’t until you were on the road that the full effects of the doped wine kicked in. You were blacking out, losing your grip on staying awake, before you saw tail lights flicker on to the right side of your car. They weren’t there a moment before.

You didn’t feel the force of the impact, of metal against metal. The screeching of tires and broken glass were lost on you. Your head had bashed against the window.

Your world had gone dark.

Now, Buck never wanted you to get hurt but some things were necessary. The accident would make things a lot easier in the long run. The impact was rough, but not meant to cause you any damage.

He worked without hesitation, stepping out from the hotwired car around to your own. His leather gloves were soft against your skin. His breath was warm on your cheek. This was the closest he had ever been.

You had become everything to him. He was going to take care of you now.

And as he pulled you from the car and set you into the back of the idle van down the street he gave you another once over. You looked so delicate in his arms, and every bit as beautiful as he could have imagined. Except for one tiny detail.

The ring. You were wearing the engagement ring.

That was your third mistake.

It was like a dance to Bucky. One-two step. One-two step. And you had followed his dance most perfectly.

He slid the ring off your finger and backtracked toward the battered car, sliding it into the glovebox without care.

It was a simple gold band with a modest diamond.

_Oh_ , you deserved much better than that. For you Bucky would move mountains and carve the finest gems. He already had a ring of his own picked out.

Bucky was a meticulous planner. He had to be.

So when the police finally rolled up to your crashed car there were no fingerprints, no signs of forced entry, and the only thing left in the car was that cursed gold band.

It was a gift, a way for Bucky to tell everyone that you were gone. To tell your fiancé that you didn’t want him.

The police had done their investigation and questioned your friends, but nothing seemed to be out of place. That’s how the police operated. They were slow and lazy, and looked for an easy answer. It was predictable behavior from the NYPD.

They thought that you had run away. That you didn’t want to get married. That you had high tailed it out of town.

Bucky almost gave your fiance credit.

“You don’t think she ran away, do you?” Bucky asked, snapping back into the present. He was calm and composed, not giving away his charade.

Your fiance was a mess, shaking his head wildly.

“She wouldn’t have. We were happy. She was taken, Mr. Barnes. She must have been taken.”

Bucky liked his spirit.

But the man made a mistake. _Were you happy?_ Bucky wasn’t so sure.

He had no doubt that he could make you the happiest dame in Brooklyn. Bucky hummed, listening to the man recount his side of what happened. The room felt surprisingly small, and if it were a game of cat and mouse Bucky was the cat. He was always the cat.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” Bucky offered with a shrug, and he watched as the man’s shoulders slumped. Defeat washed over him, and it made the corner of Bucky’s lip twitch. “At least, not tonight.”

He looked back up to Bucky, his eyes filled with a broken hope.

“Mr. Barnes, I don’t know how to thank you-”

Bucky waved at him to stop. He had heard enough.

“Call the office tomorrow and we can talk about it then.”

By that time Bucky offered him a professional nod before standing, ushering them towards the front of the office. He put his hat back on and tipped the lid at your fiance. The man was stunned into a hopeful silence as he was led to the door.

“Tomorrow.” Bucky confirmed leisurely, locking the door up behind them. “I have my own wife to get home to tonight.”

_Of course,_ the man understood. He nodded and thanked Bucky again, shaking his hand before going separate ways.

Bucky watched him walk away before turning back towards his car.

A sly smirk spread across his face. He looked dark. He looked dangerous.

Everything was falling into place. Your fiance wasn’t going to cause trouble for very much longer.

It was late when Bucky finally made it home, and he made sure to make auditory cues to be as domestic and casual as possible.

From taking off his jacket and putting it in the closet, setting down his keys in the front bowl, and humming lightly, he made his way to the bedroom.

He crossed the room slowly to the bathroom, turning on the bedside light and sparing a glance to the sleeping figure there.

You were still fast asleep.

Bucky was going to take his time and savor the moment a little bit longer. He took his time unbuttoning his day shirt and slipping out of his slacks and wingtips. He let the water in the sink run for a moment before wetting his face and brushing his teeth.

It was _nice_ , nice in a way that Bucky didn’t fully expect. It was domestic, but it was more than that. It felt like home. And he couldn’t wait any longer.

Backtracking, the soft yellow light of the lamp illuminated the bedroom, catching the curves of your cheeks and the sleepy pout of your lips.

You were practically glowing for him.

So he pulled back the covers and laid down, letting his body get comfortable next to yours.

And then the unexpected happened. You curled into him, caving into the warmth of his skin. For a moment he froze. You were seeking him out, and even though you didn’t realize it, it had been everything that Bucky had been waiting for. He melted into your touch.

He let his eyes flutter closed.

“Baby, I’m home.” Bucky whispered against your forehead, a slow hum pushing past your lips.

He was being careful, breaching you of your subconscious like a dream. When you didn’t pull away he placed a delicate kiss at the crown of your head.

In your sleepy haze you pulled him closer, draping your hand across his stomach.

You were affectionate, so affectionate.

“I’m sorry it’s so late.” Bucky whispered again, his fingers weaving into your hair. “I missed you.”

“- _Missed you_.” You repeated blindly, eyes fluttering behind closed eyelids.

Bucky couldn’t help his smile this time. The smell of his cologne from the day was faint, but it drifted past you, settling deep in your subconscious. He smelled so good.

This time Bucky shifted, pulling you into the crook of his neck and weaving one of his legs between your own. That was enough to stir you out of your sleepy stupor.

Your eyes were heavy, and you needed to blink a number of times before you could really get a hold of your surroundings.

Nothing was familiar. The room was large, larger than what you had been used to, and the bed was softer than anything you had slept on. It was like a dream. The flutter of your eyelashes against Bucky’s shoulder made him shift again.

“Sorry honey. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

The soft, velvet voice should have soothed you, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

You tensed under his touch. You were afraid to move, and at the same time you wanted to push away.

You let out a heavy breath. You were in bed _with_ someone.

“Honey?-”

“ _Who_? Who are you?” You interrupted, your voice still thick with sleep.

You felt like you had slept for a week straight. Your bones were heavy with fatigue.

The man next to you pulled back, looking at you with concern.

The sharp blue of his eyes cut into you, making you shift to look from his jaw to the curve of his nose to the top of his hair. You stared at him, and he stared at you. An unspoken dance of wills.

“Baby, what do you mean-” “Are you going to hurt me-”

You both dissolved into a tense silence. He shook his head ardently.

“No baby, _no._ I would never hurt you.”

He looked scorched from the heat of your words, but it was too late to take them back. His tone turned flat, dejection floating through the open space.

“Maybe I should call the doctor.”

You froze, pulling back to look at him. Clearly this time, you saw the tick in his jaw and something hidden in his eyes.

“D-Doctor?” You repeated, not fully understanding him. “Why would I need a doctor?”

Bucky reached up to your temple and you flinched back, but he wasn’t put off. He doubled down, his fingers dancing along a uniquely sensitive patch of skin. He rubbed there gently, just past your hairline.

It hurt. You didn’t notice it before, but it throbbed with a hot pain.

A wave of emotion came over you. You felt like crying. Bucky moved quickly, dropping his hand in a peace offering but he stayed close by.

“Honey, it’s okay. It’s okay. You were in an accident.” He explained softly, his eyes filled with care. “It was a car accident. You hit your head.”

Hit your head.

You couldn’t believe it. You raised your own hand, feeling the bump for yourself.

“An accident.” You mimicked in a whisper, concern settling behind your eyes and in the pit of your stomach.

He nodded gently, his eyes shifting to yours to see your reaction. When you didn’t pull away he spoke up again.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He admitted slowly. “Each day, your memory should get better. But some days it might get worse. What do you remember?”

He tested your memory patiently, keeping you close.

You didn’t know what to think. You couldn’t remember him. You couldn’t remember anything.

“What does that mean? Is it like…it’s amnesia, isn’t it?” You half asked, half realized. Your eyes went wide as soon as the words passed your lips.

Your eyes danced over his face quickly, trying to remember.

You knew him. You must have known him. Why else would you be there, in his bed, in his home? Your thoughts were spiraling, and it wasn’t helping.

“Y/N, it’s okay.” Bucky reassured, giving your hand a slow squeeze before pulling away to get off the bed. “Let me call the doctor-”

“No.” You insisted, reaching for his arm to pull him back. It must have shocked him, because Bucky’s eyes were wide, flicking down to where you were holding him. “I can do this.”

Even though you couldn’t remember him, you couldn’t deny the affection in his eyes or the sweet way he said your name. Bucky was being a gentleman. He knew you. He wasn’t being a creep.

You looked down at the hand that was holding his arm, and in the lamplight you saw the twinkle of a diamond sitting on your hand. It was a ring. It was a large emerald cut stone in a platinum setting, and a small band sat below it. It shocked you. No wonder why he was being so careful with you.

“I’m married?”

Your words were a whisper, floating past you like a daydream. Could it be true? You tried not to blush, both in closeness to him and embarrassment that you could have forgotten something so important.

Bucky didn’t say anything, but he let his left hand cover your own with a reassuring squeeze and you saw his own platinum wedding band.

Your eyes shoot up to his own.

“ _We’re_ married.”

Your correction died on your lips, looking up at him to see if it was true. Bucky let out a bated breath, a careful smile tugging at his lips.

He was so beautiful. He was moving slow, like you were a wounded animal trying to escape.

A part of you felt guilty.

“What else do you remember?” He coaxed, not trying to scare you away.

His eyes shimmered with hope, with a longing that was foreign to you. But the longer you looked at him the less it made sense. You couldn’t focus. Something didn’t feel right.

If you were married, you tried to remember it, a ceremony or him whisking you away or him proposing. You hesitated. Maybe he _did_ propose? The thought had slipped away from you the longer that you thought about it, and you were getting frustrated.

“I don’t know.” You replied with a frown, shaking your head.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

It was like he could read your mind.

He didn’t try to get into your space, but for a moment that’s all you wanted. You wanted to be reassured, to be comforted, but for the life of you you just couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember anything.

“I am so sorry.” You blurted out, and fought back frustrated tears. You were trying to be reasonable. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to _you_ ; to _him_. “I-I want to remember.”

A momentary smile danced on his lips before he nodded, slow and understanding. He must have been trying his best too.

Your heart broke.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Bucky finally pulled you close and you gave in, letting you pull yourself into his lap. You were straddling his waist, with his back pressed against the headboard.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, and he was rubbing hypnotic patterns into your back with his free hands.

His whispers of sweet nothings and honeyed promises stole you away from the harsh reality of what was happening.

You were hurt, and he was taking care of you.

_“It’s okay baby. It’s okay.”_

_“I’ve got you.”_

_“I would do anything for you.”_

_“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”_

Bucky didn’t stop until each of his ministrations were engraved in the crevices of your mind. He wasn’t going to let you go until you believed him.

You wanted to believe him.

He was going to help you remember. He was going to help you remember the life he wanted for you.

He was lulling you back to him, never faltering. This stranger, this man, _your husband_ , was ever diligent.

“What’s your name?” You finally dared to ask, and he paused drawing patterns along your skin.

He took a deep breath, looking out to the other side of the room. You couldn’t see his face, but could hear the steady breaths coming from him.

“I’m Bucky.” He spoke softly, tightening his arms around you with a gentle squeeze. “Well, _James_ , but only if you’re mad at me.”

You couldn’t help the broken laugh that escaped you. He was trying to help. He was trying to calm you down.

It was working. The sound of your sudden laugh made him pull back in wonder. He would do anything to hear it again.

_“Bucky_.”

You tested the sound of it on your lips, and when he hummed against you you tried it again.

“Bucky…I’m scared.” You admitted, but you weren’t completely afraid. You were scared of the unknown, but not afraid of the man in front of you. “Is this real? Was there really an accident?”

He didn’t let you go, but he leaned in close enough for your foreheads to touch. This time you didn’t pull away.

“I’m afraid so, doll.”

His admission made you heart sink for a moment, but the care in his eyes made you glad that you made it home.

That’s what this was, right? You were home. You were safe.

“I’m scared too.” He admitted finally, his eyes flickering from your own down to your lips. A flash of heat spread through your cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

An unspoken desire had seized Bucky, and you watched the effects of it first hand.

You never thought that you could have that effect on anyone. Even though you were so unsure, you liked how important you felt. How needed you were. If he was brave, you could be brave too.

“Help me.” You insisted, watching his eyes darken with a lusty fog. “Help me remember.”

There was a moment where you both hung in suspension, the weight of your words sinking in.

And then he was on you, crushing you in his hold. His lips were sweet and sanguine against your own, and you could have sworn that he was kissing you like a starved man. Like it was your first kiss.

To you, it felt brand new. You couldn’t remember the intensity of anything like it, and after a moment you needed to pull back. It was needy, it was tender. His touches were searing hot and you were burning up.

Bucky’s hand was on the back of your neck, pulling you close. His nose danced along your jaw and he peppered deft kisses against your skin.

He was the one in control, and you didn’t question it for a moment.

You were unravelling in front of him, a choked moan coming from you as he nipped the soft skin of your neck and let his hands wander higher. They danced under the loose tshirt you were wearing and teased at your chest. The pads of his fingers were rough, knuckles brushing against nipples. Your nerve endings were on fire.

His touch was addictive, and you pulled yourself closer, sinking you both down into the mattress.

He shifted, rolling you onto your back without breaking contact. He was so intense, so involved, that you couldn’t help your airy chuckle.

It only spurred him on. He was there, pressing against you with a newfound vigor. And now that he had you, he was never going to let go.

Your soft smile soothed the burn of his stubble against your skin. Bucky had done so little, but the intensity of the situation left you feeling everything.

The rough fabric of his boxers scratched against your bare legs, and you didn’t miss the way his cock jumped as you were pulled to him. Legs entangled and chests pressed together made you feel safe. Bucky made you feel protected.

Your body reacted most beautifully, soft moans and deep breaths echoed in the room as he kissed at every bare inch of skin. You keened towards him; towards his addictive touch.

Bucky was playing you like you were made of strings.

And then he rocked, letting his hips snap forward once. His tented cock brushed up the length of your stomach. A low grumble reverberated from his chest and even through the layers of clothes you shivered. He needed you.

“I couldn’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this.” The rasp in his voice was your undoing. He was sincere.

How long had you tortured him?

How long did he need you, but you weren’t there? How long had the accident taken away from you two?

A wave of seduction and confidence was pulled from you.

You wanted to take control, even if it was only for a moment.

“Bucky,” you breathed out, pulling him back up to kiss him. His lips were pink and in a pout, and the hungry look in his eyes made the blues hide at the corners. “Bucky, I’m sorry I can’t remember.”

“Oh baby, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” He assured quickly, pulling you in for another sweeping kiss. You closed your eyes for the briefest of moments.

He was doting. And handsome. And he was there for you.

With that spark of confidence you smiled against his lips and snaked your hand down between you two, down from his shoulder and around the curve of his hip. His skin was hot and smooth and hard.

You cupped his cock over the fabric of his boxers and it pulled a breathless groan from Bucky. You teased, tugging and groping him through the fabric until he was dizzy.

_Well well_ , you were full of surprises.

And then you finally pulled him free of his confines through the slit in the front of the boxers. You didn’t even bother to pull them down. With long, intentional strokes of your hand you let him pull you into another hungry kiss.

Your hand was gentle but firm, and a smooth gleam of precome slicked his tip. It was sensitive, and you slowly stoked there, only there, making him push you further into the mattress. He moaned into the pillow at the crook of your neck.

With a renewed vigor you pulled your other hand down, pumping at his shaft and fondling his balls with care. Bucky was shaking, _actually_ shaking, and before too long he was thrusting into your hands.

He was putty.

He couldn’t wait to have you. Bucky pulled up to his elbows, hovering over you with a heated gaze. His eyes were dark and his skin was flushed, and he took one of his hands over yours, stopping your ministrations.

With a wordless command you listened, letting your hands fall aside to his thighs. His hand danced along your skin, along the outline of your sleep shorts before adventuring forward. Deft fingers moved on their own accord up and past the barrier of your panties. You were sticking to the cotton. You were wet. You were wet _for him_.

The shorts were loose, and just as you had done he teased your skin, his fingers glazing over your weeping cunt and up to your sensitive clit. You didn’t know how long you had been holding your breath, but a sharp exhale was pulled from you when he slipped a finger, no, _two_ , inside.

You were so tight and full of need, clenching down on him. Bucky’s stomach burned with desire. You had no doubt that he was going to break you and put you back together again.

You rolled your hips this time, earning warm praise from Buck. His fingers persisted, his thumb drawing hasty circles around your clit.

“That’s it, baby.”

His eyes were locked on you. Your own eyes were dark and hooded, and your lips were bruised in the best way. You were all his.

The teasing didn’t last for very long.

Using his own knee he parted your own. Bucky made space to stay nested there, between your legs. And he only broke eye contact once, to take a moment to pull your shorts and panties down in a smooth movement.

He wanted to see you wet and glistening. It was all for him. He drank it in.

He didn’t even bother to take off his boxers when he finally replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock. He needed you so badly.

And then finally, with a slow drag you watched each other with new eyes. As If it were the first time. You appreciated him. You needed him.

Bucky was hot and thick, and filling you like he was meant to be there. And he didn’t stop. You were stretched around him, holding your breath at the burning stretch, taking every part of him an inch at a time. And when he finally bottomed out you both let out a ferocious moan.

But desire was a cruel beast. She needed more.

With slow, short thrusts Bucky made his way back into you, and you had never felt so needy. Your hands pulled around his back, digging into the skin. You needed him close.

Bucky needed you close too. He needed to be careful, otherwise he would fall apart faster than he wanted to.

Bucky tried to focus on your hot breaths against his own and the sweet noises you made, but the feeling of you was overwhelming.

He had waited so long for this.

You hardly noticed the soft burning in your belly until his thrusts were longer, more drawn out. You were sopping, the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin was almost too much. He was giving you every inch, and you took him in so graciously. You wanted to cry. It felt so good.

Minutes melted together.

It was slow and lazy, and the heat in your stomach reached a peak when he lifted your legs, the angle making you succumb to your dark desires. You flushed, a sharp moan into his shoulder, before looking up at him. Bucky was a man bewitched.

“Oh Y/N, that’s it.”

“Oh honey, was that all for me?”

“So good to me.”

Bucky couldn’t take it. Slow and steady thrusts turned fast and needy. The chase was on.

He hooked your leg around him and kept you buried into the mattress until his own release hit his peak, and at the last moment he pulled out, letting him spill along your thighs up to your navel.

He had time. There would be time to fill you up another night. But for tonight, this was enough.

You cleaned up quickly with your discarded shorts before pulling him back down to you.

You were content. Tomorrow was a new day, and even if you couldn’t remember, you were home. You must have been home. You were exactly where you wanted to be.

A curious thought passed you.

“Bucky?” You turned with a whisper, eyes sweeping against his blue ones. His small _hmm_ made you grin. “What if…what if we renewed our vows?”

He sat up, looking down at you through heavy, darkened eyelashes.

“I mean,” you quickly continued. “I mean, if I can’t remember it. If it doesn’t come back to me.”

You swore you had never seen such fervent love in all your life. He blossomed before you, his eyes shining with a fire you’d never seen.

Because for him, that would make it real. Because for him, that would _really_ mean you were his.

It was better than anything he could have planned.

“Of course, honey. I’d like that.”


End file.
